My familiar streaked down the hallway toward us, his blue cape/towel with the dryer sheet still stuck to it flapping in the wind behind him.

"Studmuffin, brakes!" I shouted.

Dad shot me a wide-eyed look. "Studmuffin?"

Just like last time, everything slowed. Except Studmuffin. Despite knowing exactly what he was planning on doing, there was no way I could stop it. That couldn't keep me from trying though.

But once again my foot snagged on one of the couch's ...